Stolen Hearts
by Gypsy6
Summary: Can Haldir and Aragorn unravel the mystery of an Elf with an unknown past, before it's too late!
1. Robbed!

Stolen Hearts

Chapter One

Robbed!

**Disclaimer:** The plot of this story is based on the film _Marnie,_ directed by the great _Alfred Hitchcock._ The characters are borrowed from the works of _JRR.Tolkien._ I do not own or claim to own either the plot or the characters. Any original characters are created by my own warped imagination.  
I make no profit from this story and post it only for entertainment. Thank you.

**Authors Notes:** The name _Sairalindë Súrion_, by the _Elvish Name Generator site_ means _Beautiful Desire_, yes corny I know. But if you notice, all of Hitchcock's leading women were cast as glorious _Mary-Sue's_, and sometimes I think we all need a good dose of MS.

This story seems to be following its own line in the Tolkien universe. I am not an expert on LotR, so I have used much poetic licence with this story. Please take it as the distraction it's meant to be, and not a serious Tolkien story. 

Dedications: For Tabbitha the cat, a strong companion for eighteen years, and the terror of two counties   
For Beverly, a true friend in my hour of need and an inspirational voice in the dark. Thank you.

~*~

Haldir stalked the hallway, his mood darkening along with the mid-noon sky of Gondor. He was glad the long coronation ceremony for King Elessar was finally over.

The twenty-five pounds of burnished bronze he wore weighing him down, though more so with the injuries that still plagued him. The sword wound to his back would have been more fatal if the Uruk-hai had put more weight behind his thrust. Yet he had not, and miraculously the blade had not skewered any major organs. Bypassing both spine and heart and only cutting deep into his flesh.

His stomach wound hurt more than his back. For although it was not a life-threatening wound it had become irritated this day with all the armour he wore. Ignoring the dire urge to scratch the fading gash he headed towards his guest room. Pleased he would be returning to his wooded home in the morning, he had decided that was good enough reason to leave the celebrations and enjoy an early night.

Striding round the corner he stopped as a harsh wind whistled through an open window. A great storm was bearing down on the White city. He resumed his forceful gait down the tapestry filled hallway; his interest in the sewn patches of history had faded long ago. 

Pacing towards his chambers, slowly grasping the door handle and opening the door silently. Standing in the doorway he stared at his room. Something was wrong, very wrong. His acute blue eyes scanned the barely lit room, his elven-ears listening keenly. Nothing, he could see nothing that would make his honed instincts scream at him like they were now.

His eyes settled on the dresser that stood opposite him against the wall, he looked agitatedly at the contents that were neatly placed on its flat wooden surface. Something about the brush set nagged at him; walking further in to the room he stood before the simple wooden furnishing.

The ornamental brush and comb set, handcrafted by his brother Orophin, still lay where he had gently placed them this morning. His eyebrows rose then sunk as a frown glossed over his face, uttering a curse in the language of Mordor; he lifted the brush and comb looking all over the dresser.

His pin, a simple gold pin shaped as a leaf from the Mallorn tree, given by his mother as a present when he had received the commission of March Warden. He knew he had left it next to the fine bristled brush.

He peered down the back of the dresser, even crouched to his knees and looked beneath it. His fine sight could not see it anywhere, standing he turned all about to see if he had perhaps knocked it on the floor, yet nothing gleamed up at him.

He approached the open door and stopped, hearing a clicking noise. Racing from his room, his silent steps brought him quickly to another long hallway. He peeked round the corner, rewarded as the clicking sound came again; he watched a door handle turn and a young man step out. Although his hair was slightly longer than the fashion of Gondor with their shoulder length hair, Haldir knew this was no invited guest; his vagabond clothes gave him away. Also the fact that the room he exited was not his but belonged to a young woman whom Haldir had more than noticed at the Coronation.

He watched the youth; for that was what he had to be with his short stature, stroll off purposely to the next room. The door clicked as it was opened and the thief entered, not even bothering to glance around to see if all was safe.

The sheer arrogance of the thief flared Haldir in to action. Gliding the ceremonial sword from its sheath at his hip he prowled forward, stopping at the door. His sensitive ears picked up the thief rustling through the belongings in the room.

Haldir took a step backwards bringing his sword up in the same movement; he waited for the thief to open the door. Which he did, his attention focused still on the room behind him.

Haldir placed his sword a hairsbreadth away from the vagabonds exposed neck, noting the clean milky skin that seemed so unmatched to the dirty clothes he wore. Haldir looked down at the boy's hands seeing them slip the ornamental jewelled necklaces and bracelets in to a coat pocket.

"What do we have here, a magpie?"

The villain froze turning their head slightly but stopping stiffly as the sharp point dented their flesh. "Such pretty necklaces, though I believe you would look better in chains."

The thief reacted with a gasp; it was a little too high pitched for his liking. Something was not right where this villain was concerned. Stepping forward, lowering his sword, Haldir grabbed the thief's mud stained brown coat jerking the boy around to face him.

He looked in to pure ocean blue eyes, the eyes of..."a girl." Haldir loosened his grip only slightly on the coat. Her dirty blonde hair caught up in his clinched grasp, yet it was her blue eyes that kept his attention. They were not the natural blue for any mortal.

Voices came from the other direction of the hallway, not sure what to do as yet with the thief he pulled her along. Stopping only to shut the door of the suite she had just robbed from. He dragged her back towards his own suite, rounding the corner just as the voices came round the corner behind them.

"Please, I'm sorry, do not turn me in. I beg of you kind Lord." Haldir listened to the husky voice, but her pleading fell on deaf Elven ears. No one stole while he was about, and they especially did not steal from him. Pushing open his door he dragged the woman in, letting go of her collar. Watching as she stumbled and fell to the floor, had he really been using his strength, then he would have expected her to fall to the floor. So her theatrics did nothing but raise his temper more.

"Get up, thief!" He slammed the door, speaking venomously to her. He watched her stand, brushing the mousy hair away from her face. Her eyes avoiding his acerbic glare, she turned away from him facing the lone window of his room.

"You have removed something from this room. And I wish for you to return it, now."

Her hands came up, hugging her arms. "I don't have it on me," Haldir stepped forward once more grabbing her and forcing her to face him.

"You lie, girl. Return to me what is mine, and I shall reward you with just prison and not death." Her eyes rose sharply from his chest to meet his own, "so you fear prison. Perhaps you should have thought about that before you decided to steal from your King's guests."

Her blue eyes focused sharply on him, the crisp blue irises turning a sharp steel grey. "Yes, life in prison. Caged in a cell, of your own making I might add."

He watched the emotional tirade cross her face and eyes. Her haunted look settled oddly on him, life in prison for her. Again his eyes lowered from her dirt-smeared face to her clean neck.

"Please, sir. I beg you; I do not have the pin I took with me. I will retrieve it for you, I swear."

His eyes snapped back to hers, his lips curling up into a sardonic smile. "You ask me to trust a thief? Surely girl you are disillusioned? I know if I let you leave here, you will not return."

"No I swear my lord. I promise, please." 

She had started to wriggle in his grip, her strength as equal to his as if she were a bug and he a bear. He clutched her tighter, his eyes threatening enough as she stilled her struggles. "Very well, I shall allow you to retrieve my pin. Though I shall accompany you every step of the way. I wish to see what other plunder you have."

He had thought the prison threat had terrified her enough, but her reaction to this was positively violent. She kicked him in the shins, though he felt nothing through his armour. She was trying to get free of his iron grip as he fought her. Not afraid to hurt her if he must, though as she managed to wriggle under his grasp and flee he grabbed at the dirty hair. 

She cried out as she was brought to a sudden stop, he felt the jerk of her hair almost give way from its roots. She had stilled, but he did not release her. Instead he jerked her head viciously back to him, his eyes searing into the sight before him. Her ear, her perfectly pointed, milky white, Elven ear.

His face coiled in to a grimace as he thrust her away from him as though she carried the plague itself. He watched her fall to the floor in earnest this time, her head nearly connecting with the large wooden double bedstead.

"You despicable creature, how can you steal from your own kind?" He stalked towards her; the temptation to strike her great but he stilled his hand. He could think of no more to say or ask her. His ire had risen so much in such a short span that he was breathing heavily, trying to control himself. Which only put more stress on his stomach wound with the tightening armour.

"I'm sorry, please. I have no choice, my family..."

"Do not burden me more with your lies, or you will truly feel my disdain for you."

He glared as she sunk in to silence and he started pacing before her. Wondering whom exactly should be her judge now. Should he leave her to mortal man's justice, as she had stolen from them? Or should she suffer Elven justice, seeing as she was one of theirs? He wanted to interrogate her himself, to discover why she would steal. An elf, stealing! He had never met such a creature before, and he strongly desired to never meet one again.

"My lord," he stopped pacing, facing her glowering down his nose at her. "I can explain sir."

"Yes, I'm sure you can spin a pretty yarn. But I am no fool." He watched her eyes turn to the ground, her soft voice floated up to him. Stilling him in mid pace.

"I'm glad you caught me. I could not bare to steal again."

Haldir moved so quickly he was sure that some of his stitches in both wounds had ripped apart. His hands settled round her arms, yanking her to her feet. "You miserable creature, you beg for pity now! I will make sure you receive none, do you hear me!"

He emphasised his words with a severe shake of her small body. Her sullen blue eyes only stared at him. "Do what you will my lord, though first, allow me to retrieve your pin."

He pushed her away, unsure of the tactics she now used. Her dirty face showed clearly an apologetic, miserable look. He decided that she was far too good an actress, yet he would allow her to return his pin first.

Gripping her arm he strode from the room, immediately turning towards the stairs that would lead outside the palace. He halted as she tried to turn away from him. "You will not escape me."

"I do not try to escape, my lord. I was taking you to your pin." 

Haldir allowed himself a brief glance at the ceiling, his mind tumbling over what her plan could be. He held out his hand, "lead on, thief."

He followed her, watching her slumped form. She headed towards the hallway they had come from when he had caught her. Heading to the room of the pretty blonde noble woman who had caught his eye earlier in the day.

"What are you up to?" He growled out the words, watching her turn suddenly, forcing him to stop short or he would have walked right over her. 

"I am taking you to my plunder my lord!" He looked down at her, seeing the pale cheeks become flushed with her temper. Her tone sounding more like she was asking him to go throw himself in MT. Doom.

She turned away from him once more reaching out for the handle. He watched her open the door and walk in as though she new the room well. Heading over to a dresser exactly the same as his, in a matching room that faced the south, rather than his that faced west.

"This room is yours?" Haldir asked the question, though not wishing to hear the answer. She pulled open the draw and pulled out his pin, she held it up in her hand. Haldir watched her deliberate movements, he briefly wondered at what else she had in that drawer? 

Finally she turned to him, and gave him a brief nod for an answer. Once more Haldir found himself slamming another door closed. He slowly prowled towards her, not wanting to believe that this dirty vagabond she-elf was the same stunning noble woman whom he had tried to catch all day for a few brief words.

Before she had been dressed in a flowing dress of lilac with silver trim, her shining blonde hair bore no resemblance to the filth-streaked mass before him. One hand snatched the pin she willingly offered, the other came up and grasped her chin tightly.

"What kind of an Elf are you?" He looked in to her dull eyes, wanting to find some answers at least. It pricked at him, that her behaviour earlier had not been as an elf. In fact she had worn her hair loose, so as to cover up her ears. She had acted, and many had believed, as though she were from Gondor's nobility.

He let out a small base laugh, releasing her chin seeing his finger marks imprinted on her skin. "I will now hand you over to the King's guard. They will decide your punishment as I cannot bear having to see you again."

He grabbed her arm roughly, but turned to her. His curiosity finally won the inner battle that had been raging inside him since he discovered she was an elf. 

"Tell me why?" 

She looked up at him, he found himself dismayed at seeing her eyes so sullen. The small spark of temper she had shown outside the room had thrilled him, mildly.

"The truth, my lord?" 

"Yes the truth."

"I stole because of" Her words faded away, he waited for her to resume. Watching intently her face, she was holding back and he could see it.

"You stole because ofwhat? Voices in your head told you to do so, could that be your pitiful defence?" He waved his hand majestically around in the air, his every movement mocking her.

His condescending tone seemed to bring her back to life. "No my lord, I stole because- you made me!"

His hand came up to grab her chin once more. Though she seemed to misread his action. She backed away fast, pressing herself against the dresser. "You strike me, and I shall kill you!"

Haldir had always thought that he had a fine ability in sounding threatening. Though to the tone he now heard, he believed himself to be second best. Her pose reminded him of a coiled snake ready to strike its victim dead.

He stepped back from her, lowering his hand to his side. These were no dramatics this was real. This was who she was, an elf who had at some point been severely mistreated. Though he could not decide whether it be a man or an elf who had done the mistreating.

Was it related to her stealing? Had she been caught before and punished more severely than the laws of Gondor would allow. He regarded her, trying his best to fathom the complicated puzzle in front of him. 

Then it occurred to him he didn't need to. Let the guards decide, or Elassar himself. What did he care of her, she had just been a pretty face in the crowd. A hopeful bed partner, if she had been a mortal, for him. Most noble women of Gondor and even Roan would beg for one night of love with an elf. And he had never refused yet, though he was sorry he could not taste her pliable flesh. Yes, let Gondor deal with her, she had burdened his evening enough. And he had his pin back now anyway.

His mind was made up; he reached forward though, this time a little more gently, and clasped her arm. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest and cast his gaze over her to see if she had any visible weapons on her.

He started to tug her forwards when it happened. A white flash followed instantly by a thundering boom. The storm had broke right on top of the palace. Haldir had no time to react, the loud quaking noise barely drowned out her scream of terror. 

He found himself shoved forward with great force, losing his balance he fell to all fours. She tripped on his leg and he watched her scrabble around trying to crawl away from him. His hand reached out grabbing her foot and she started to kick at him immediately. 

He pulled her to him, trying to contain the flailing fists and legs aimed at him. Then it happened again, the lightening splashed the whole room in a pale white before flickering away. Her body stiffened in mid kick. He watched engrossed as she tensed to the point of flying apart.

Again the room nigh on shook with the loud booming noise, her stillness disappeared as she looked over his shoulder at something. Her hands came up to cover her mouth and nose, head shaking. He turned his head to see if they had an intruder, but nothing was there. The only thing in his view was the scarlet cloak that was now pooled over his shoulder.

In her moment of strange theatrics he pulled her to him, though the closer she got the more she became a wildcat again. She was scratching and trying to bite him. Eventually he was forced to straddle her waist. Bearing all his armoured weight down on to her.

His hands managed to seize her own flailing appendages, though her strength doubled when he flattened himself against her. He wanted to rip his cloak off as it slid across his shoulder further and down next to her head.

Her struggles ceased the moment the cloak touched the floor, her head turning to follow its movement. She strained her head backwards from the cloak, her breathing raspy. Her mouth opened and closed trying to force words out but no voice could be heard.

"Mummy, the blood mummy." Had she been a mortal, Haldir knew he would have softened to the child like voice that came from her. Though Elves did not suffer madness of any sort, and he found himself tiring of her. He would be glad to give her to the palace guard.

Lightning once more lit up the room, and the thunder crashed, though not as loudly. It was passing over the white city, though her voice forced him to compose all his thoughts and wiles on the little minx.

"Mummy, don't. Don't let him hurt me, mummy. Please don't let him hurt me." Her pleading child voice sounded so real, could she be mad? No, it could not, and never would happen to an elf. 

"Please, mummy!" She screamed out, her voice a shrill sound of desperation and uncontrollable fear. "Don't mummy, don't let him touch me, please don't mummy."

Haldir did the only thing he could think of. Risking her trying to break free, he sat up. Unclasping the hooks to his cloak, he quickly shed the garment. Accidentally bringing the scarlet material closer to her face. 

She bucked up savagely, almost knocking him over. "No, please. The blood. Don't you hurt her, don't hurt my mummy."

Haldir tossed the cloak away from her, watching it fall behind the small chair that sat angled in one corner. It was out of his view, and she settled straight away, telling him it was also out of hers.

One more streak of lightening flashed in to the room, and her hands moved rapidly to cover her ears. "Please mummy, don't let him touch me, don't let him hurt me."

Her eyes were clenched shut, as though she were suffering some awful nightmare. Haldir started whispering a few words; a spell Lady Galadriel had forced him to learn before he had marched to Helms Deep for the great battle.

She stilled, her hands falling from her ears and resting limply by the side of her head. Haldir gazed down at her comatose form her lips were slightly parted. He could feel her restful breath on his face; the storm outside was fading with only a dying rumble.

He stood above her, his mind trying to assess all that had happened. Why had she reacted so violently to the storm, yet fiercer still at seeing his red cloak? Had she not noticed it before?

Walking over, he plucked the woven cloak from behind the chair. In the dim light of the single torch that lit her room Haldir could plainly see it did not look its true colour, more a fox red colour, than scarlet.

Was it real? He pondered this question while gazing around at her guest chambers. Could something have happened to her as a wee elfling? As he strode over to a large cabinet pressed close to a small table with a washing bowl upon it, he opened its doors.

Inside were but three dresses, the lilac and silver dress she had worn earlier. He knew he had gazed heatedly at her when she was dressed in it. And for the briefest of moments he had caught her eyes, but had thought she had been to far away to see the smouldering gaze he had given her.

Why had he not noticed her blue eyes then? He would have approached her, if Lord Elrond had not snared him in a conversation with a she-elf from Rivendell. One who was obviously on the lookout for a mate.

He had not seen her again after that, is that when she had left to come and change in to her vagabond disguise? He glided his hand over the smooth material; grasping the long flowing skirt he oddly brought it to his nose inhaling the rich scent of her.

His eyes snapped open as he realised what he was doing, flinging the gown away as though it burned. He heavily shut the wooden doors paying no heed to the other two dresses. 

She had blamed him for her theft, the sheer audacity made him look down on her with contempt. He hardened himself against the conspiring thoughts gathering in his mind, she was not worth his pity. Her charade had gone on long enough, she was a fine actress and he would admire her only for her will to escape him, by any means.

His eyes travelled over the long dirty coat she wore, down to the black breeches and boots she dressed in. He grabbed the bowl of water that stood idly by, deciding that now the storm was over, so was her ruse.

Standing above her once more he tipped the white porcelain bowl on its side. The water splashed down on her hard, waking her from the spell. She coughed and spluttered as the water seeped in to her mouth and nose. 

Kneeling over her his hand grabbed the lapel of her coat forcing her in to a sitting position. "Feeling better, oh Queen of the melodramatics?" His snide tone had returned too easily, and even its sharpness surprised him.

The water had washed away at the dirt on her face and hair; he had a desire to go throw her in the nearest bath just to see the shining blonde hair once more.

Her eyes briefly flitted up to his, before resting on the window. "The storm?" Her hushed tone was barely caught by his ears, her eyes drifted back to his. "What did you do? How?"

"A simple spell, thief. Had I known you were to be this wily, I would have used it earlier."

Her eyes lowered to the floor, and he could see tears gather on her long, dark lashes. Her hand came up to wipe at them, but she tried her hardest to make it look as though she were wiping away the spilled water.

"Save your tears, my lady for your imprisonment."

She let out a shallow laugh, "you don't know what imprisonment even is." She tried to rise, but his hand tightened on the soft leather. 

"No you're right, I do not know what imprisonment is, for I am no thief." Why was he so infused with a desire to see her break in front of him? He couldn't answer his own thought, only that this need was making him act more caustic than to an enemy on his homeland.

Without thinking he smeared away a smudged spot of dirt on her cheek, his eyes swept away from her face. The answer was plain, because he still wanted her. He cursed himself for acting so foolishly, instead forcing himself to think on other things like her false accusation against him.

"Why do you blame me for your thievery?" His voice had softened, willing her to be truthful to him, just for once. 

"Because of what you are." His head tilted to one side, his finger pressed under her chin forcing her to raise her head."

"An elf? Do you hate your own kind so much?"

"No I don't hate my own kind as much as I hate your kind." 

He laughed out harshly, ruffling the thin strands of hair that fell over her face. "My kind are elves," he paused as her cryptic meaning became clear, "you mean males, don't you?"

She tore her head away from him, eyes once more downcast. "Oh please my lady, tell me, what has my _kind_ done to you? Consider this your chance to plead your case."

To emphasise he stood, placing his right hand on the gilded hilt of his sword, knowing full well her eyes followed his every move. 

"I saw you," her whispered words had him straining to hear her. "I saw you watching me, like alike a predator."

Her head came up to stare unblinkingly at him. "You wanted me, you still do I see it in your eyes. Though you will never have me, I would rather kill myself than let you touch me in the manner of a-"

Her mouth closed, she had bitten off what she was to say. Would she have been revealing too much of herself to him?

"In that manner? Please tell me, what manner would I have touched you in? Come girl, you seem to know me and my kind so well, what manner?"

Her eyes steeled over once more, and he found himself kneeling in front of her just so he could witness the cold look that once more flared at him. She seemed to be struggling with her words a mixture of fear and hate infused on her face. 

"You are all the same. Men, Elves, there are no differences in you. You all take what you want, you all use women likewhores. I find you all distasteful, you most of all, for I know what you wanted of me this night." She paused, licking her lips, his eyes watching her tongue a little too avidly. "And I know if I had refused, you would have taken me anyway. So I wanted to hurt you, you more than any of those fools down there." She inclined her head towards the floor, "just to show you. To teach you a lesson that you have no power over me."

Her voice was getting higher and thicker the more she spoke, " well I will not be one of those fools you take to your bed. I will fight you all the way, until my dying breath. For the only way you would ever have my body, is if I were a corpse." 

A loud banging made them both jump; Haldir turned his head to the door. The she-elf stood, trying to move away from him. He grabbed her wrist yanking her towards the door, positioning her back against the nearest wall. His other hand turned the handle, opening the door slightly.

A short round woman stood looking up at him, her face set in an indignant mask. Though it turned to shock as she stared at him. 

Haldir raised his eyebrows when the woman just continued to stare and not speak. She seemed to gather her wits at his stony glower and her jowls wobbled as words were forced out. 

"My lord, I have been sent to see if Lady Sairalindë is well?" She finished her question with something he presumed was a curtsy. Haldir ducked his head back in, staring at the she-elf.

What should he do with her? He could easily tell the portly maidservant that he had caught her thieving, yet something made him hold back that information. Facing the maid again he leaned his face further out towards her. "For whom are you inquiring?"

Haldir hoped it was not some young suitor she had perhaps arrived with. "My Lord King enquires, sir. He knows of my lady's great fear of storms, and the madness that takes her."

So Elessar knew her, and he would be grieved greatly to learn of her true nature. Haldir repeated the thought, silently convincing himself of the fact.

"You may tell King Elessar that our lady fairs well, for she has had the company of an elf all afternoon."

Haldir wanted to grin at the gasp that came from both the maid and the she-elf. All could tell what his tone implied. He frowned as a look of disgust creased the maid's face, "is there more?"

The frown disappeared and the woman shook her head sharply. "Then please leave us," the maid was about to turn away when an amusing idea came to Haldir's mind. "Oh, please inform the kitchens that we shall take our supper in this room. And we are not to be disturbed-- at all."

The woman curtsied once more; she didn't take more than three steps before Haldir's voice stopped her again. "And please inform your king that Captain Haldir has changed his mind, he will be staying for a while longer to take in the beautiful sites of the White City."

His head had turned back to the she-elf as he spoke out on his new plans, making sure she watched him rake his eyes over her body. He took a quick glance watching the servant rush away. 

Then closed the door gently, his calmness setting the she-elf on edge. He turned his head so quickly his hair was flung down one shoulder, he smirked slightly at her startled reaction. 

He observed her; she raised her head in mock defiance of him, chin sticking out with the dignity that was beholden to her kind. "What are your intentions, my lord?" Again her voice held the undertone of her wishes to see him maimed, painfully slowly as well.

"To be honest, my lady. I do not know." He didn't, it was the truth. He couldn't even begin to fathom why he had saved her from the prison cell she so deserved. All he knew was that he had softened after the maid had spoke about her fear of storms. He had witnessed this so called 'madness' and was intrigued enough to want to find out what had been the cause of this abject terror in her life.

"Why do you fear the storms?" He watched her every movement, her body tensing at his question. She moved away from him towards her bed sitting heavily on the mattress. 

"I don't know." He looked down at her unhappy at her evasive answer, "tis truth I speak. I don't know. I never seem to hold the memory long enough, all I ever see isblood."

"Who's blood, the man that hurt you?" Her head cocked to the side, her eyes settled on his. They still held anger and he knew with certainty not to turn his back on her, lest she become the caged warg and he the hapless victim.

"I do not know what you mean? No man has ever hurt me?"

"Ah my lady, you contradict yourself. You yourself said that you hated males, yet now you claim that none has ever hurt you. Perhaps sometime I shall get the truth from you?"

He paid no heed to her puzzled expression, to busy watching her teeth worry her bottom lip as she stilled in thought. "I am not lying to you my lord. I truly have no memory of a man or male hurting me."

He stepped towards her, noting her body tense at his nearness. "All I know is that I hate you all." Her tone was soft, and when her eyes rose from the blanket to meet his, he could see she that she had spoken a private thought, though it was honest at least.

Haldir turned from her, surveying the room. A slight chill was now permeating the room. He glanced over at the stone hearth, wondering if he should start a fire. His eyes noticed the soot that covered the beige stone, he laughed before looking back at her still smudged face and hair.

"Soot, a clever disguise, my lady." He walked over to stand in front of her, his hand gently taking hold of her chin this time. Raising her head to look in to her eyes. "I have come to a decision, and you will agree to all terms or I shall see you locked in a cell before this night is through. Agreed?"

"I do not know your terms yet my lord, so how can I agree?"

"My terms? My terms are simple, you agree to do whatever I command."

He enjoyed the power over her, knowing she despised it to her very core. "I will not agree unless you tell me your terms first, my lord."

She was attempting to subtly lean back from his grasp. Haldir tightened his fingers, his thumb sliding over her cheek. Her eyes widened, "I told you already, I would rather die than be in your bed."

"You will not be in my bed," his arm came out waving around the room, "for we are in your room." 

Her temper flared again, "touch me, and I will kill myself. I swear it."

"I believe you, Sairalindë." It was the first time he'd said her name and it chilled him that it actually sounded good falling from his lips.

Stepping back he gathered his thoughts. "I will not take you, have no fear of that my lady. Though I insist that one of my terms are that you-" his eyes raked over her again "-at least take a bath."

The corners of her mouth upturned slightly in a graceful smile that seemed to change her entire look. "I will most certainly agree to that, my lord Haldir."

"Good I will inform the maids." He approached the door, sliding the metal key from its lock. He turned to her sharply, his hand outstretched to her. "Give me the jewels, all of them."

She wavered slightly in indecision, "what do you want with them?"

He strode back to her, "I will replace them of course!" She did not move, her hand instinctively going over the pocket that held them. Haldir sighed, walking over to the dresser he opened it. Inside the top drawer was empty, he wondered why she would go to the trouble of stealing his pin and bringing it to her room.

"Saira," he shortened her name. Her head whirling round to look at him, "give me the jewels, please."

Still she did not move. To him it seemed like she was frozen at the thought of giving them up. He marched back to her side, dragging her to a standing position. His hand dived in to her pocket on her right, pulling out the necklaces and jewels she had taken from the room next door. 

"Is this it? Saira?" He shook her a little bringing her round from some tangent she had been upon. She nodded, her eyes glazed. He clenched his fist around the jewels. Her hands suddenly came up grabbing at him, trying to force his hand open. Such desperation radiating from her face.

He pulled his hand out of her reach watching her tumble to her knees still trying to grasp them. The storms were not the only cause for her madness. He let her wear herself out, one hand pressed firmly on her head keeping her on her knees. 

Her soft pleas to hold the jewels reminded him of a certain ring, all he could do was watch her in sad silence at her pitiful display. Eventually she sunk to all fours, her shoulders shaking with heavy sobs.

"Please," her hands clawed up his armour eventually gripping at his breastplate. Her blue eyes resembling the storm clouds that had passed over Gondor. "Please, help me. Please, stop this madness in me, Haldir"

She gave over to her grief, slumping on the floor her head pillowed on one arm. He watched the anguish in her face as she sobbed heavily.

Turning from her, he strode from the room. Locking the door after him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	2. Revelations!

Stolen Hearts

Chapter Two

Revelations!

**Disclaimer:** The plot of this story is based on the film _Marnie_, directed by the great _Alfred Hitchcock_. The characters are borrowed from the works of _JRR.Tolkien_. I do not own or claim to own either the plot or the characters. Any original characters are created by my own warped imagination.  
I make no profit from this story and post it only for entertainment. Thank you.

**Authors Notes:** **I am so sorry, I did not include the disclaimer with my first chapter. Please forgive me! **  
The name _Sairalindë Súrion_, by the _Elvish Name Generator site_ means _Beautiful Desire_, yes corny I know. But if you notice, all of Hitchcock's leading women were cast as glorious _Mary-Sue's_, and sometimes I think we all need a good dose of MS.

This story seems to be following its own line in the Tolkien universe. I am not an expert on LotR, so I have used much poetic licence with this story. Please take it as the distraction it's meant to be, and not a serious Tolkien story. **Diplomatic Immunity**. There is a law I believe in some countries, well I think most countries actually, which grants diplomatic immunity to ambassadors and their families. Hence they cannot be prosecuted for some crimes. However, I am not a legal expert, so I have bended and twisted what little I know about this law to suit the purpose of this story. Again I'll remind you, my reason is to make a fun story to give you ten minutes peace from life's difficulties. That's all, nothing more.  
Thank you. 

Dedications: For Tabbitha the cat, a strong companion for eighteen years, and the terror of two counties   
For Beverly, a true friend in my hour of need and an inspirational voice in the dark. Thank you.

~*~

Haldir once more prowled the empty, half-lit corridors of Gondor's palace. He held the jewel encrusted necklaces tightly clenched in one fist, periodically squeezing them with frustration.

Stopping at the last room Sairalindë had visited, he stood beside the door listening intently for any movement inside. Not hearing anything, he turned the gilded handle, swinging the door open silently. Haldir walked in, his eyes searching the room. On a small ladies dresser stood three ornately carved boxes. He sighed heavily. Which box had the jewels come from?

Standing beside the dresser, he glared viscously at the boxes, hoping that some divine force would tell him which was the right box. Shaking his head slowly, he knew he couldn't choose wrongly in this, for Saira's sake.

Why was he allowing himself to become involved with? What did he expect to gain from this? What was his personal motivation in this? Breathing deeply, laying one hand against the dresser, his answer not so unsettling as he had hoped. Sairalindë the quandary, the enigma that was encompassed in the waif like body with long flaxen hair and sapphire eyes. The woman whom he had left sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.

Standing straight, realising he'd been stood staring for a while, lucky to not have been caught. He decided that he would need some help on this issue; he needed to find some start to this maze. And prayed to the Seldarine upon high that his decision was the right one.

~*~

Elesaar, King Elesaar! The title and name still seemed so unfamiliar. Twice he had been addressed thus and not answered until his beautiful wife had poked him in the ribs, delicately reminding him of his status.

He watched his _undomiel_ mingling with his guests, her father, Elrond, hovering near to her. The wise Elf seemed to be painting a portrait of his daughter in his mind. Elesaar's gaze dropped. Oh, how much his strong, beautiful wife had given up for him. Composing his thoughts he looked up, seeing Arwen's face. Her peach lips tilting in an exotic smile, a smile he would never grow weary of, for each time he saw it his breath stopped.

"Your Highness."

Elesaar turned to address the smooth voice he had come to know very well. Its underlying arrogant tone still there, despite all that this noble being had suffered.

"Haldir?" Elesaar smiled at the elf, welcoming him nearer with an outstretched arm. "What may I do for you, fine Captain of the Galadrim?"

Elesaar watched the pale pink tint warm Haldir's cheeks, laughing jovially at the bravest warrior he knew. 

Haldir, for his part, seemed nervous, his face holding a grimness he'd not seen in quite a while. Which only piqued Elesaar's interest. The elf shuffled over to him, his body movements stiff. The King believing he knew the difference between an injured elf walking, and one with a great weight- metaphorically- on his shoulders.

Haldir stood before him, and Elesaar once more wrapped his arms around the elf, much akin to what he had done the night of a great battle where man and elf stood as allies. Placing his lips near Haldir's ear he whispered to the elf. "What is wrong, _mellon_?"

__

"Amin ant a' quen yassen lle ereba!"

Elesaar's eyes met Haldir's, searching the iron blue orbs for a clue. With a small nod, the King stepped back. Glancing over Haldir's shoulder at his new bride, he smiled. Before turning to the few guests that surrounded him. 

He was worried, already had he received word that Haldir had been keeping Sairalindë company. He feared the elf's reaction to her, had Haldir witnessed first hand the 'madness' that could take the girl during a storm? Or perhaps he'd found out her 'other' secret. What would be the fierce captain's reaction? Questions, many questions rose in him, and there were those he brushed aside. Not wanting to give in to a truth, that only he knew about Sairalindë.

Elesaar made his excuses then strode away from the spacious banquet hall; his eyes for once not focused on the huge marble statues, and weapons that adorned each side of the long corridor to his private study.

Elesaar looked up, seeing Haldir pacing in front of the closed oak door. The elf would not meet his gaze, and inside Elesaar began to worry. He dreaded what Haldir might say; honestly debating with himself if he could protect the young woman now he was king. Could he? Would he, ever rise above his own laws just for her sake? Elesaar knew that although he considered himself a fair and just man, realisation dawned on him, that perhaps not all that he tried to help could be helped.

Without stopping or speaking, Elesaar marched past the captain and pushed open his door, shutting it once Haldir had had entered. The elf stood by one of the three great arched windows that in the day would cast great light into the room. Now only a stormy dusk could be seen.

Elesaar seated himself, allowing the elf to speak first. Haldir, though still stood in silence, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. To see this guardian of the golden wood, stood at his window, many would think it were another of the marble statues that adorned the palace already.

Haldir drew in a deep breath, releasing it with a low hiss. Elesaar just watched. The tense set of Haldir's shoulders beginning to make the King nervous. Slowly the elf turned, and fixed Elesaar with a tormented gaze.

His heart sunk, he knew what Haldir would say. Before the elf could open his mouth, Elesaar opened his. "She has done it again, hasn't she."

His broken tone made him sound so much older, he sighed glaring down at the heavy oak writing desk. Folding his hands in front of him, he could not look at the elf. "I failed," he mumbled to himself.

The ivory hand appeared, placing in his sight a small pile of trinkets. Elesaar wanted to weep; he had tried so hard and new that this day would be a great challenge to her.

"I am sorry, _mellon_." Haldir shook his head slowly, hoping that this would perhaps all turn out to be a bad dream. He wished Haldir would speak; say anything, just so he could explain. Though in reality he could not, even he didn't know why she would steal.

"What do you wish for me to do?" Elesaar had to know, would he want Sairalindë to face mortal justice or Elven Justice?

"Tell me," Elesaar looked up at Haldir seeing the same conflict mirrored in the elf's eyes. "Tell me why?"

Elesaar shook his head in puzzlement, not sure what the elf truly wanted to know. Haldir glanced down, before raising his head again. "Tell me why she does this? Tell me, _how_ her sweet soul was corrupted?"

"These questions I cannot answer my friend, for I do not know myself. Only do I know this, something happened to her, as a babe I presume, that has made her this way all her life."

Haldir gave a sharp nod, his face showing he absorbed all this information and wanted more. Hope sprang up in Elesaar, could the Captain of Lórian perhaps succeed where he had failed. He wished fiercely that his friend would help, that someone could discover the truth.

"I can only tell you what I do know: Many years before, when I was still a ranger. I came across her as a child; she had stolen some money from a trader in a market at Edoras. He was about to cut off her hand in punishment. I stopped him."

"Naturally." The elf replied, with a smile that now held genuine warmth.

Continuing his tale, Elesaar stood, rounding the desk to stand in front of the elf. "Even then I could see that there was somethingwrong, with the young one. I found that she was raised in an orphanage, brought there when she was four years of age, by our standards of course. There were no leads to her past, no documents. She had been found wandering the streets of Edoras, and placed in the orphanage. The only clue to her identity was a small bracelet, made for a child, engraved with the name Sairalindë Súrion."

Elesaar stepped back from his friend, allowing the elf to inhale all this new information. Watching as the jaw of the elf moved slightly, his pose still tense though.

"Why was she not handed over to her own kind?"

Elesaar shrugged his shoulders at Haldir's question. Chiding himself for forgetting, that one elf would most assuredly know another if its kind. "I know not, Haldir. I have spent many a year trying to unravel this mystery, and each time I found only dead ends. She does not know herself, which is why, I believe, I have had more compassion for this burning weakness of hers."

Haldir was staring into his eyes. Elesaar looked away, trying to gain back his composure for asking a question such as this. "What do you intend to do, Haldir?"

"She should be punished as all thieves are punished." 

Elesaar wilted, Haldir was right. He had tried hard, very hard. Whenever his duties led him back to Rohan, he would always try to help her. His earlier thought resurfaced, he was but a mere man, and he could not help all people, regardless of their circumstances.

He nodded his head dejectedly. He looked up as Haldir's smooth voice spoke closely to him, not even hearing the elf move.

"However, I find myself at odds as to how she should be punished. To lock her away, an elf imprisoned would surely fade. A fate I wish on no elf. However, she cannot be trusted Elesaar, she needs that puzzle solved if she is to have a life."

This time Haldir stepped away, his hands outstretched in a pleading manner. "This 'madness' she suffers. It must be cured. She is immortal; she can not live forever this way. One day she will be caught, and no-one will be there to protect her. To save her."

The last sentence was breathed out quietly, Haldir's eyes closing as if to sweep away such a hideous fate for the young she-elf. Elesaar was not sure whether to laugh or cry. Only once before had he bore witness to the fierce determination of this proud elf. Now here he was again, proclaiming his intent to fight for a just cause, albeit a rather attractive young cause. 

Both were drawn from their silent aspiration, a commotion in the corridor making both rush to the door.

"My jewels! My jewels!"

The high-pitched voice was heading towards them rapidly, a quieter, male, voice trying to placate the panicked female. Her voice became haughty and loud. "I demand to see the King, he must know that there is a thief in his midst."

Haldir and Elesaar both turned, glaring at the incriminating jewels lying on the desk. Elesaar rushed forth, gabbing them up, swiftly throwing them into the drawer he now held open. He slammed it shut, just as his study door burst open. Haldir was forced to move swiftly out of the heavy wooden door's way, lest he ended up crushed. 

Elesaar stared as the door, left open by the middle aged noble woman, halted. Sure he heard an indignant grunt from the elf now hidden behind his door. One of his aides followed the barrelling woman; he bowed to his king. About to explain the interruption, though Elesaar waved for him to leave. His eyes widening as the aid bowed then pulled the door shut behind him, exposing the elf.

"Your highness, I am truly sorry to impose upon you, on this glorious day. However, I felt you should be aware, that I, have been robbed!"

Elesaar bit back his smirk, painting his most serious expression onto his features. The woman carried on, regardless of whether he wanted her to or not.

"I demand that the palace be searched, from top to bottom, until my jewels are found, and this culprit is brought before the proud justice of Gondor."

Elesaar stared at the black haired woman; her pose and clothing told him she was a woman of great wealth. The jewels alone, if they were all hers, could feed his entire army for a year with their value. 

"Now, your aid has already called out the guard. And we found a witness, who has spoken of a vagabond boy, seen roaming the palace. I believe that the thief is still here, your highness. And we will have him brought to justice within the hour."

Elesaar flicked his eyes over to the elf; Haldir's face had become stone. Elesaar felt the true weight of balancing friendship with duty. He could not refuse the woman her right to justice, mainly because that would arouse suspicion, especially within this woman's noble household. A household he could very possibly need to ally himself with.

However, Haldir's face told him that, if Sairalindë was found, her secret would be known and nothing would save her. He could not override his own laws, and didn't want to anger the elves at the same time.

Haldir's face relaxed to that of contemplation, the woman still prattling on. Elesaar blocked her out, seeing the elf's eyes widen with a solution. 

"Now that I have said my piece, I will take my leave, your highness."

Haldir shook his head, and Elesaar grabbed the woman's wrist tenderly. He smiled in earnest, wide and toothy. Soothing her fears and thanking her gracefully. All the time keeping her back to the elf. Though, if she had been able to see the comical situation behind her, she would have discovered the king's real reason for his wide smile.

It was a sight he would never forget. Proud Captain of the Galadrim, MarchWarden of Lóthlórian, hero of Helms Deep, sneaking along the wall to a full size armoire, easing the door open and slipping inside quietly.

Finishing his speech, Elesaar walked the woman to his door, allowing her to take her leave. 

He shut the door, his face cracking with the smile on it. Turning he leaned against the door, wiping a hand over his face. The grimness of the situation presented itself along with the disgruntled curse muttered in _Orkish_. Grinning at the whole debacle of this afternoon, he walked over to the armoire, yanking open the heavy door.

He wished he had time to savour this moment; Haldir's thunderous face was nothing short of hysterical. However, first they had to save Sairalindë, then they could both laugh about it later.

Stepping from the armoire, Haldir stood tall in front of Elesaar. "You have a plan?"

The elf nodded sternly, and Elesaar knew this was perhaps an awful plan, yet there were no other ideas at that moment.

Elesaar waited; when nothing was forthcoming he began to badger the elf. "For the love of the Valor, Haldir. Tell me?"

"Diplomatic immunity, your highness."

Elesaar mouthed the words, unsure how the old ancient law could save the young she-elf. "Haldir, she is no ambassador?"

Haldir gave him a look that could melt Mithril, "I am more than aware of that."

"Then how do you intend to use"

Elesaar shut his mouth, his teeth clicking together. This had gone from bad to worse, was Haldir truly suggesting, that in order to save this girl he was going toMarry her! 

Key:  
Seldarine ~ Gods  
Undomiel ~ Evenstar  
Mellon ~ Friend  
Amin ant a' quen yassen lle ereba! ~ I need to speak with youalone!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~


End file.
